A light wind swept through the 57th Street
as we walked on side by side.
We weren’t waiting for anyone, just holding hands.
As I lighted my cigarette, the city tinged with sadness.

Those graffiti on the wall don’t have any meaning to us,
we don’t even know who wrote them or when.
And yet, struck by the rain, exposed to the wind and vulnerable to the passing of time,
they somehow remind us of the love we’re growing
inside your warmth.
Focus on me alone.

In this city without flowers, the sky looks gray
as we walk glancing upwards.
If we reach out, the grief and the sadness
can always be healed by a shimmer of light.

We sit by an empty fountain,
not daydreaming, just silent.
Someone is playing a nameless song. As we listen to it
I get the feeling I’m losing you. Even if I try to hold you
I feel the distance.
Focus on me alone.

Daydreaming on the bed, soon our hearts
soften and the grief can be overcome.
Gently, lovingly I kiss your cheek while you sleep.
Stroking my hair, you look at me quietly
and ask, “Will we be alright…?”
Focus on me alone.

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